Confidentially Yours
by ilovetvalot
Summary: When tragedy rocks Erin Strauss' life, support comes from an unlikely source. THREE SHOT
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Hello, Friends. A couple of announcements for all of you. First, you still have approximately two weeks to sign up for "The Masquerade Challenge" for October's on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. We also have a "Freaky Friday" mini-challenge in progress for those interested. Details for both can be found at the forum. We'd love to have all of you sign up. I think we'll have a lot of fun this Halloween Season.**_

_**Second, you all have a little less than a month left to nominate stories for the second Annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards. The nomination ballot, rules and category summaries can be found at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. To reach that post please either take a trip to the forum OR links are provided on the profile pages of ilovetvalot, Profiler's Choice CM Awards AND tonnie2001969. Nomination ballots should be PM'd to the Profiler's Choice CM Awards ONLY. That link is also provided on the forum or the profile pages listed above. PLEASE REMEMBER, WITHOUT NOMINATED STORIES, THERE CAN BE NO AWARDS! SO, PLEASE, COME OUT AND SUPPORT YOUR FAVORITE FANFIC AUTHORS AND NOMINATE THOSE STORIES. **_

_**ALSO, we would love for our fellow author's to assist us in advertising these awards! Please feel free to copy and paste anything in this author's note or contact us for a pre-written blurb if you like.**_

_**And, please, everyone, feel free to join us over on Facebook! Simply search for "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction" and friend me. We have scores of authors connected together and we'd love to see you there! **_

_**As ever, we appreciate every single one of you that takes the time to read and/or review our stories. Your valuable feedback is deeply appreciated and we love hearing from you!**_

_**And, if we haven't stated it before, we do not own Criminal Minds, but darn, we wish we did!**_

_*******_** SPECIAL NOTE: For whatever reason, disabled the Profiler's Choice Awards PM system. That means all attempts to submit ballots failed from September 11 - 16. Could you all please help spread the word that anyone who tried to submit a ballot during this period listed above should RESEND their submissions. I am very sorry for any inconvenience this has caused. We really need help reaching all the different ships out there though. So, PLEASE, those willing to help, let me know if you can include this as part of your author's notes to readers.*****

* * *

**Confidentially Yours**

**Chapter One**

It was impossible to murder a dead man.

But, oh, how she wished it were.

Crumpling the crisp white piece of stationary in her hand, she watched it fall from her numb fingers to the piled ruby carpet below by her feet. The ivory paper contrasted sharply to the shiny black pump resting beside it.

Twenty-five years.

She'd given that man over half her life. Only to find out that it had been wasted on a less than deserving man that obviously hadn't loved her back. Glaring down at the paper by her foot, anger flooded her as her dead husband's betrayal slapped her in the face again.

Where had his little whore that signed her love letters "Confidentially Yours" been when he'd needed his medication at four in the morning? Where had the bitch been when she'd been changing soiled sheet after soiled sheet? When she'd given up everything she'd ever worked for at the Bureau to be here and care for a man that hadn't had the guts to tell her she was living in a marital farce?

Where the fuck was that…that…slut?

"Son of a bitch!" she screamed, her leaden tumbler of scotch sailing across the room to crash against the wall before she could control herself as pain overwhelmed her. Watching in horror as dark amber streaks marred the perfectly painted alabaster wall, she shook her head as she began to shake, her emotional outburst so unlike her that even she was scared by it.

This couldn't be happening, could it? She couldn't have been so self-involved for the last few years that she'd missed the signs completely, could she? But one glance down at the desk drawer filled with letters from his mistress confirmed her nightmare.

"You bastard!" she screamed at the photograph on his spotless desk. Ironically enough, it was their wedding picture. His smiling face mocked her now, and without conscious thought, she flung the grim reminder of her mockery of a marriage across the room, watching as it, too, shattered against the wall.

The crunch of broken glass filled the room just as the door opened. Jerking her head around with a whipping snap, she narrowed her eyes on the interloper who had dared to invade what had once been her inner sanctum.

Of course it would be him. Why would the fates allow her to explode in peace when there was obviously other people intent on terrorizing her?

"Out!" she snarled, her shaking hand waving toward the door that he had dared to close behind him as she glared at the man standing just inside her late husband's study.

Carefully sidestepping the fractured frame lying in the middle of the now littered oriental carpet, David Rossi arched one brow as he said, "Not until I verify that you're not gonna grab a gun and climb on the roof to start picking off mourners, Erin. After the first boom sounded, I was drafted to ensure you hadn't started taking out the support studs in the walls."

"Don't," Erin Strauss ordered simply, crossing her arms over her heaving chest as she faced the late Edward Strauss' longtime friend. "I don't have time to handle your crap right now, Dave."

Reaching down to pick up the broken picture frame off of the floor, Dave carefully laid it face up on the desk as he said, his voice kinder that normal when dealing with her, "You know he couldn't help it, Erin. He wouldn't have left you on purpose. He loved…"

Erin snapped a hand out quickly, her pale palm stopping his words in mid sentence. "Do not finish that sentence!"

Her wavering voice would have been enough to cause him to believe that she was suffering from a long overdue emotional break. But something else in her tone, something he couldn't quite yet identify, caused him to stop in his tracks and attempt to identify the obvious anger hiding in those simple words. But, then, grief could be exhibited in many different formats, and he was well aware that the woman before him had been bottling up her rage for years. He asked, his tone deliberately neutral, "You want to tell me what else is going on, Erin?"

Narrowing her eyes, Erin snarled, "You're going to tell me that you don't know?" Reaching down and gripping a handful of her husband's harlot's letters, she tossed them viciously toward Rossi. "Go ahead," she demanded harshly, "Lie to me."

Watching several envelopes float through the air to litter the carpet around his feet, Dave kept his eyes trained carefully on the volatile women in front of him. This woman was the antithesis of the controlled, regimented person he knew Erin to be. Taking a step toward her, Dave shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Erin. What the hell is all this?" he asked, glancing down at the various envelopes.

"Like you don't know!" Erin yelled, taking a step back when he reached a hand toward her. "Did you two laugh about it behind my back? God, I knew you hated me, but letting me take care of that prick while he made a fool of me? Now, that's a new low even for you," she spat, shaking her head violently, tears pooling in her eyes as another wave of rage seemed to encase her body, flooding her with heat.

"Erin, once and for all, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," Dave replied, raising his voice to match hers as he watched the color drain from her face suddenly.

"Oh, God!" Erin gasped, pressing her fingers to her lips as nausea rolled in her stomach. Stumbling toward the attached bathroom, she muttered, "I'm going to be sick. Just get out," she moaned before slamming the door shut behind her.

Grimacing as he heard her wretch, Dave shook his head, lifting a hand to run it down his tired face. Seventy-two hours on the road this week had taken its toll on him. And the funeral of a man he'd known nearly all his adult life had only served to remind him of his own mortality. Damn, he'd known those cigarettes were going to be the death of Edward.

And if the violent gleam he'd seen in Erin's eyes before she'd gotten sick was any indication, his old friend might not be the only casualty today.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Hello, Friends. A couple of announcements for all of you. First, you still have approximately two weeks to sign up for "The Masquerade Challenge" for October's on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. We also have a "Freaky Friday" mini-challenge in progress for those interested. Details for both can be found at the forum. We'd love to have all of you sign up. I think we'll have a lot of fun this Halloween Season.**_

_**Second, you all have a little less than a month left to nominate stories for the second Annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards. The nomination ballot, rules and category summaries can be found at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. To reach that post please either take a trip to the forum OR links are provided on the profile pages of ilovetvalot, Profiler's Choice CM Awards AND tonnie2001969. Nomination ballots should be PM'd to the Profiler's Choice CM Awards ONLY. That link is also provided on the forum or the profile pages listed above. PLEASE REMEMBER, WITHOUT NOMINATED STORIES, THERE CAN BE NO AWARDS! SO, PLEASE, COME OUT AND SUPPORT YOUR FAVORITE FANFIC AUTHORS AND NOMINATE THOSE STORIES. **_

_**ALSO, we would love for our fellow author's to assist us in advertising these awards! Please feel free to copy and paste anything in this author's note or contact us for a pre-written blurb if you like.**_

_**And, please, everyone, feel free to join us over on Facebook! Simply search for "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction" and friend me. We have scores of authors connected together and we'd love to see you there! **_

_**As ever, we appreciate every single one of you that takes the time to read and/or review our stories. Your valuable feedback is deeply appreciated and we love hearing from you!**_

_**And, if we haven't stated it before, we do not own Criminal Minds, but darn, we wish we did!**_

_*******_** SPECIAL NOTE: For whatever reason, disabled the Profiler's Choice Awards PM system. That means all attempts to submit ballots failed from September 11 - 16. Could you all please help spread the word that anyone who tried to submit a ballot during this period listed above should RESEND their submissions. I am very sorry for any inconvenience this has caused. We really need help reaching all the different ships out there though. So, PLEASE, those willing to help, let me know if you can include this as part of your author's notes to readers.*****

* * *

**Confidentially Yours**

**Chapter Two**

Frowning, he bent to pick up one of the envelopes on the floor. Flicking it open, he plucked out the note inside, his eyes scanning the contents quickly as his mind comprehended the implication of the words just as rapidly. Eyes darting to the date at the top of the page, he noted that it had been written almost ten years ago.

Looking toward the closed bathroom door again, Dave sighed. No wonder she was pissed.

Looking down at the scattered missives on the floor, Dave inhaled deeply. Bending he scooped up the evidence of Edward's infidelity, opening each envelope to look at the date. When he rose, he shook his head. Best he could tell, the affair he'd been indulging in had been going on the better part of ten years. Same penmanship, same cutsie sign-off from the woman involved...it all appeared incriminating.

And he had a feeling, strange as it was to think such a thing, that Edward was obviously better off dead at this time. Otherwise, the hapless man would be facing an execution squad.

Walking around the mahogany desk his friend had used, his jaw clenched as he peered down into the open drawer. There must have been over a hundred letters in there.

Jesus, no wonder Strauss was on the verge of a nervous breakdown of epic proportions.

There was no way she'd known about any of it. That much was clear. The proud woman in her would never have tolerated it.

He rifled through the stack, one ear attuned to the noises he could still hear just beyond that nearby closed door. It didn't take less than thirty seconds for him to realize that the letters has spanned the gamut, crossing season after season…and the major milestones of the life that the man was supposed to have been sharing with his wife. Dave straightened as he heard the door latch click, well aware that, try as he might, it was too late to hide the evidence and spare her any more pain. And while he was not exactly certain why he was concerned with Erin's feelings, he was man enough to acknowledge that no woman, especially a grieving widow, should have to deal with anything remotely associated with this.

Watching as Erin woodenly moved back into the dimly lit room, he frowned as he realized that her face was paler than normal. Shock will do that to a person, he thought grimly. Nodding toward the nearby chair, he ordered, his voice harsher than he intended, "Sit down, Erin, before you fall down."

"Don't you dare waltz in here and start issuing orders like some lord of the manner," Erin retorted, her eyes flashing as she met his gaze, her shoulders ramrod straight in spite of the turmoil inside. "Titillating reading material, isn't it," she remarked almost drily as she eased down on the end of one of the leather sofas scattered in the room, her legs still shaky.

"I didn't know, Erin," Dave replied softly, his fingers tightening on the single sheet of paper he held. "I honestly did not know about any of this. I don't think any of his friends did. I certainly didn't," he sighed, dropping his eyes back to the incriminating evidence in his hand.

"Like hell," Erin sneered, her lips pursing. "None of you could stand me," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm sure you all had a wonderful laugh at my expense. But you get points for sincerity. You're almost convincing."

"Erin..." Dave began, shaking his dark head as he dropped the leaf of paper back into the open drawer, "I know you don't have any reason to believe this, but I'm truly sorry. As much as we have had our differences, you didn't deserve this," he stated, closing the drawer with a flick of his wrist.

"Just tell me who she is, David," Erin replied, her tired eyes drifting toward the bay window, the bright sunlight highlighting a beautiful spring day almost painful to look at now.

"I can't do that, Erin," Dave denied, his voice calm and soft. Hell, at this moment, he'd almost be willing to invent a scapegoat, if it would offer her any form of closure into the matter. But he knew that he couldn't do such a thing, try as he might.

"Can't or won't?" Erin whispered. "Would you rather make me read all those little love letters to try and get my answer? Are you really that cruel?" she breathed, turning her glassy eyes back to him.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his black trousers as he rose and crossed the room to her side, Dave shook his head. "No, I'm not. I'm a bastard, Erin. I won't bother denying a confirmed fact...but when have you known me to bother with a lie?"

Biting her lip as she tried to fight the tears threatening to spill over, she shook her head. "Never," she bit out raggedly.

Pulling out his handkerchief, Dave pressed it against her nervous fingers. "That's right, Erin. Never. I don't know who the hell your husband was seeing on the side. As far as I knew, he was the last man on earth that would have done something like this. Honestly, I thought you kept his balls in your purse."

"Evidently not," Erin responded hollowly as she stared across the room, her eyes not seeing anything really. And she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be able to see the truth again in her life. Shaking off the numbness creeping over her, she sat up a little straighter. "Now, could you please leave now? I'm fine and you've done your duty here, David," she requested, her voice cool and imperious in the otherwise quiet room.

"Nice try," Dave snorted, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned back to settle comfortably against the sofa. "But, I'm not going anywhere, Dragon Lady. You're forgetting, your fire never did quite instill the fear in my heart that it did in everybody else."

"Only you would dare call me names on a day like this," Erin retorted, no real heat behind her words as she allowed herself to be reluctantly impressed by the stones of the man beside her. Her late husband would have gone running for cover if she'd told him to get out and get lost, but not this man. Never him. Of course, he'd faced down some of the most demented men on earth in a game of who blinks first and had always walked away from all those encounters remarkably unscathed. The current display of his obstinate nature really should not have surprised her.

"I'm a profiler, Erin. Do you really think I haven't already predicted your next move, babe?" Dave smiled smugly, arching one brow.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: Hello, Friends. A couple of announcements for all of you. First, you still have approximately two weeks to sign up for "The Masquerade Challenge" for October's on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. We also have a "Freaky Friday" mini-challenge in progress for those interested. Details for both can be found at the forum. We'd love to have all of you sign up. I think we'll have a lot of fun this Halloween Season.**_

_**Second, you all have a little less than a month left to nominate stories for the second Annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards. The nomination ballot, rules and category summaries can be found at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. To reach that post please either take a trip to the forum OR links are provided on the profile pages of ilovetvalot, Profiler's Choice CM Awards AND tonnie2001969. Nomination ballots should be PM'd to the Profiler's Choice CM Awards ONLY. That link is also provided on the forum or the profile pages listed above. PLEASE REMEMBER, WITHOUT NOMINATED STORIES, THERE CAN BE NO AWARDS! SO, PLEASE, COME OUT AND SUPPORT YOUR FAVORITE FANFIC AUTHORS AND NOMINATE THOSE STORIES. **_

_**ALSO, we would love for our fellow author's to assist us in advertising these awards! Please feel free to copy and paste anything in this author's note or contact us for a pre-written blurb if you like.**_

_**And, please, everyone, feel free to join us over on Facebook! Simply search for "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction" and friend me. We have scores of authors connected together and we'd love to see you there! **_

_**As ever, we appreciate every single one of you that takes the time to read and/or review our stories. Your valuable feedback is deeply appreciated and we love hearing from you!**_

_**And, if we haven't stated it before, we do not own Criminal Minds, but darn, we wish we did!**_

_*******_** SPECIAL NOTE: For whatever reason, disabled the Profiler's Choice Awards PM system. That means all attempts to submit ballots failed from September 11 - 16. Could you all please help spread the word that anyone who tried to submit a ballot during this period listed above should RESEND their submissions. I am very sorry for any inconvenience this has caused. We really need help reaching all the different ships out there though. So, PLEASE, those willing to help, let me know if you can include this as part of your author's notes to readers.*****

* * *

**Confidentially Yours**

**Chapter Three**

"I don't think it takes too much of that intuitive nature of yours to gather my next move, Rossi," Erin replied icily, lifting her chin proudly. Twisting her lips into an openly antagonistic smile, she leaned forward and gave a low warning, "And if I were you, I wouldn't get in my way."

"Or what? You'll shove your broomstick up my ass?" Rossi goaded, relieved to see some color seeping back into her waxy face. He much preferred her pissed off rather than defeated, pale imitation of the woman she normally was. And obviously his skills at achieving such an emotion were still quite useful.

"Get out!" Erin demanded, her jaw clenching as she pointed a finger toward the door.

"Why? So you can pour over those letters and try to figure out the name of the woman that wrote them? What good would that do, Erin?"

"They made a fool of me," Erin replied, her voice tight as she clung to the last thread of her control, her fists clenching as she tried to avoid hitting the nearest wall. "Both of them. And since I can't resurrect my dearly departed husband, the vile little bitch will have to do, won't she?" she informed him through her clenched teeth.

"To what end?" Rossi asked conversationally, well aware of the need to keep her talking. A silent Erin was a deadly Erin…and no one else needed to die any time soon. "So you have some momentary satisfaction in destroying her...then, what? Do you think that will cure that ache you have inside, Erin? Trust me," Dave assured her wisely, "It won't."

"Stop it!" Erin hissed, taking an unsteady step backward, her balance wavering. "Stop acting like you give a shit what I do. Or is it her you're trying to protect? Edward's poor little mistress that he kept in the shadows of his life...whatever will she do? I loved him, David!" Erin screamed as he rose in front of her. "It was me that he turned to when he got that damn diagnosis," she yelled, her fist connecting with his chest as she hurled the words at him like an accusation. "It was me that took him back and forth to every fucking specialist I could find in the country! It was me that held his hand when the pain was so awful that it made him delirious! It was me that wiped the vomit from his face after the chemo got done ravaging what was left of him! It was me that soothed him as he died! Where was she?" Erin shouted, her voice breaking as she landed another blow against the man now holding her up. "Where was his little slut when all that was happening?" she sobbed brokenly.

"I don't know, Babe," Dave whispered softly as she sagged against him, her wrenching cries painful to listen to.

"I knew we'd drifted apart," Erin mumbled against his neck. "But, I never suspected...I never thought he'd...how the hell do I forgive him for this when he's not even here?" she asked with a cracking voice.

"Erin, you're allowed to not forgive him. Hell, I was one of his best friends and I'd like to kick his ass right now. But, finding this woman...it can only lead to more pain."

"She deserves it," Erin whispered hoarsely, smacking his chest once again for emphasis.

"Yeah," Dave nodded, his chin bouncing against her hair, "but, you don't. Let yourself grieve for the man he once was, not the man he'd obviously become."

Wiping the tears from her damp face with his now soggy handkerchief, Erin sniffled. "My marriage died in more than one way, didn't it?" she muttered, unable to meet her sometimes nemesis' eyes.

"It wasn't always a lie, Erin," Dave reminded her gently. "And personally, I don't think Edward ever stopped loving you."

"He just wanted some extra sauce on the side, is that it?" Erin ground out, grinding her teeth as she tried to abate the nausea that threatened to overtake her once again.

"It would appear so," Dave said softly, unable to refute the truth with the evidence around them.

Shaking her head blindly, Erin swallowed painfully. "I really did love him, David."

"I know you did," Dave agreed softly. "Everyone was almost gone when I came in here, Erin. Go upstairs and get some rest. Let me take care of...these," he offered, gesturing toward the discarded letters on the floor.

"Going to blackmail me with them?" Erin asked baldly, forcing herself to straighten...to face him. She had been weak, and now she was going to pay. It was the way the past had always played out, so why should she expect any less now?

"It's an idea," Dave said as he winked. "But, no. I was thinking more along the lines of burning them."

Staring at the paper sheets lying on the floor, she said faintly, "How can something as inane and innocent as slips of paper send your whole world hurtling off its axis?"

"It's a mystery we'll never solve, Erin. Let me take care of it," Dave urged, his kind voice soothing.

"Doesn't matter if you burn them or not. The words are seared into my memory now," she replied, dispassionately watching as he bent to collect the letters from the floor.

"Then getting rid of these can't hurt anything, can it?" Dave asked, straightening and walking around Edward's desk to gather the rest of the old letters in his hand. Striding purposefully to the fireplace, he cast them into the grate. Grabbing the matches from the marble mantle, he looked at Erin as he struck the side of the box. "I'm feeling chilly," he shrugged.

"Me, too," she whispered as he held out the lit match to her.

"Light the fire, babe. Put an end to this, once and for all," Dave advised her tenderly.

Accepting the match, Erin bent, touching the small flame to the letter nearest her. "Goodbye, Edward," she whispered as she watched the fire take hold, the snap and crackle of their manufactured kindling mesmerizing her as she stared into the fire's flames.

Helping her ease from her knees to her bottom, Dave's hands guided her to rest against his chest, taking her weight easily. And as he heard the soft sobs of a woman in pain, he was once again reminded that even one's worst enemies were all too human in the face of tragedy.

And watching the bloom of love die before him...well, that defined tragedy in his eyes. Today, he might have buried his friend, but this woman in his arms...she'd been forced to bury not only her husband, but her marriage as well.

And he knew, the grieving process for that was gonna be a hell of a lot worse.

_**Finis**_


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